FLAVORING INGREDIENTS AND ADJUNCTS
The richer sort generally brew their small beer with malt, which they have from England, though barley grows there very well; but for the want of convenience of malt-houses, the inhabitants take no care to sow it. The poorer sort brew their beer with molasses and bran; with Indian corn malted with drying in a stove; with persimmons dried in a cake and baked; with potatoes with the green stalks of Indian corn cut small and bruised, with pompions [pumpkins], with the Jerusalem artichoke which some people plant purposely for that use, but this is the least esteemed.
—Governor Sir William Berkeley, on the brewing habits of Virginians in the 1600s1
Even if you’re planning on making beer from “standard” ingredients (what most modern peoples assume beer to be), there is a plethora of ingredients you can add that affect flavor, body, and mouthfeel. Many of these ingredients will have a fairly minimal impact on the flavor of the final product if not overused, some are not entirely predictable due to seasonal changes in flavor (such as spruce and pine needles), and others I’ll simply say require an adventurous spirit and forgiving taste buds.
Some of the ingredients in this chapter are considered flavoring ingredients while others can be referred to as adjuncts, according to technical brewing terminology. While brewers tend to have differing ideas as to what exactly an adjunct is, the general definition is an ingredient that is fermentable to some degree but has not been malted (however, malted “alternative” grains such as wheat and rye sometimes fall into this category, as do other specialty grains). Adjuncts can be either kettle adjuncts (simple sugar sources such as honey or molasses that can be added directly to the kettle or fermenter) or mash adjuncts (adjuncts such as corn or oats that contain starches that need to be broken down into sugars during the mashing process). Flavoring ingredients impart few to no fermentables, but subtle to big flavors.
Herbs, Spices, and Wild-Foraged Edibles
When Hops have been dear, many have used the Seeds of Wormwood, that they buy in the London Seed Shops, instead of them: Others Daucus or wild Carrot Seed, that grows in our common Fields, which many of the poor People in this Country gather and dry in their Houses, against their wanting of them: Others that wholsome Herb Horehound, which indeed is a fine Bitter and grows on several of our Commons.
—William Ellis, The London and Country Brewer, The Seventh Edition, 17592
Just as our ancestors did, you can use pretty much any edible botanical to flavor a brew. If you are a forager or herbalist, you likely already know a number of botanicals that are ideal for cooking, medicine, or tea. Nearly all of these can be used in brewing as well. Regardless of your level of knowledge, however, take care to fully understand the effects of these botanicals, and any potentially dangerous interactions with other herbs or pharmaceuticals (contraindications), as well as their recommended safe dose. Be sure you’ve identified any plant you’re considering using for brewing with 100 percent certainty, never harvest and ingest a plant that may have been sprayed with pesticides, and avoid harvesting from roadsides that see a lot of traffic. Even once you have correctly identified a plant, sample a little bit of it before eating or brewing with large amounts, as even plants that are safe to eat can cause allergic reactions in rare cases. If you are pregnant or may be pregnant, research a plant to see if it has qualities that may cause a problem with your pregnancy or create a hormonal imbalance. Many plants were used traditionally for abortive purposes, so we have a pretty comprehensive understanding of which ones to avoid.
Learn and practice foraging ethics and sustainability when harvesting wild plants. There are many online foraging guides. The respectable ones state their stance on foraging ethics up front. Be sure to double-check sources, particularly as each should have photos of wild edibles you can use to compare. There are also several books on foraging, one of the most respected and comprehensive being The Forager’s Harvest by Sam Thayer. I also recommend The New Wildcrafted Cuisine and The Wildcrafting Brewer by Pascal Baudar as comprehensive guides on how to use wild edibles for both food and beverages. One of Baudar’s mantras is to “taste the forest,” using not just fruits but bark, grass, leaves, twigs, tree sap, and stones (for heating and grinding ingredients). However, you’ll need to pursue advanced foraging on your own. An expert understanding of the environment of the forest, and how materials interact with one another (as well as which are deadly if used in more than very small amounts), is essential if you want to pursue forest brewing. As with any subject, start with the basics and build from there.
Alehoof (Glechoma hederacea) can be found in many yards and wildlands throughout North America and Europe.
Although what follows is by no means a comprehensive list of herbs and spices that can be used for brewing, I’ve outlined the core ingredients that have been used traditionally, as well as my experience with them where applicable. If you have an interest in herbs for cooking or medicinal purposes, that interest can easily cross over into brewing. Experiment with single herbs and then with combinations in small batches to discover flavors you like, or create brews with intentional medicinal benefits. Keep in mind that when you’re brewing with herbs or spices of any kind, a little goes a long way. For most, just a teaspoon or two per gallon will do, particularly when added to the end of a boil or during secondary fermentation. A good way to test the potency of an herb or spice’s flavor is to make a small batch of tea first, measuring both the water and ingredients carefully, and then scale up for a full batch of brew when you’ve found the right balance.
Alehoof (Glechoma hederacea)
As do many plants with a long-running history of use in brewing and medicine, alehoof goes by many names, including tunhoof, creeping Charlie, and ground ivy. Commonly found in most wildlands and in many yards in North America and Europe, it is considered by many to be a weed. A member of the mint family, it can be identified by its delicate light purple flower and square stem. Traditionally, alehoof was used for both its bittering and its preservative effects, and it works well as a substitute for hops. Its bittering effect is mild, though, as is its flavor. It can hence be used in minimal amounts without concern that it will overpower other flavors. Don’t just throw in handfuls, however.
Allspice (Pimenta dioica)
Heady and flavorful, allspice complements similar spices such as cloves and cinnamon. Along with cardamom, nutmeg, and star anise, allspice can be used to really give a brew an exotic kick. However, these are all flavorings that should be employed such that their presence is barely noticed (even a bit extra of any of them can be overpowering).
Bayberry (Myrica cerifera)
Related to the traditional brewing stalwart Myrica gale, bayberry is an astringent and is anti-inflammatory. Like alehoof, it can be used in brewing as a substitute for hops, but it has more of an astringent than bitter effect, so take care not to overdo it.
Bog Myrtle (Myrica gale)
Often referenced in brewing literature as sweet gale, bog myrtle was one of the herbs purported to have been a standard in gruit recipes. It has similar properties as bayberry. Both the leaves and flowers of the plant can be used for brewing, with the flowers having a bit more of a sweet flavor, and the leaves having more of a grassy/herbal flavor.
Broom (Cytisus scoparius)
Broom is a small woody brush that gets its name from its traditional use in making brooms (and baskets). The tips of its young branches were historically used as a bittering agent. If you’re harvesting, take care not to mistake it for its cousin Spanish broom (Spartium junceum), which is mildly poisonous and can cause vomiting.
Caraway (Carum carvi)
One of the known historic gruit components, caraway can be used effectively in brewing, particularly alongside rye. Like dill, fennel, cumin, and anise, it has carminative properties, meaning that it helps with indigestion and is … ahem … a fart-stopper.
Cardamom (Elettaria cardamomum)
Also known as green cardamom, cardamom is a relative of ginger with an aromatic, pungent, citrusy flavor. If you like Indian food, you’re probably already familiar with its flavor, as it is native to India and Sri Lanka and a standard component in Indian cooking.
Chamomile (Chamaemelum nobile)
Fragrant and sweet, chamomile can add a certain fruitiness to beer, but can also be overdone and make your brew taste more like a very herby tea.
Cinnamon (Cinnamomum zeylanicum) / Cassia (C. cassia)
Both cinnamon and cassia are the powdered bark of their respective trees. The former is true cinnamon, while cassia passes for cinnamon, and is marketed and sold as such in most American grocery stores. While not as strong as the other exotic spices, it provides a nice festive flavor and can make for a warming holiday-themed ale.
Cloves (Syzygium aromaticum)
Cloves provide a deep, rich, aromatic flavor to beer. A couple of the tiny pods go a long way. It can be used in combination with other exotics to provide a festive flavor to holiday ales. While they can be used to provide a subtle effect to lighter beers, they shine best paired with dark malts.
Coffee (Coffea arabica)
The fermented, roasted beans of a modest shrub from Ethiopia, coffee is the elixir of life and keeps many a writer from falling asleep on the job (or just staring blearily at the strange glowing object in front of him/her). Also, it’s good in beer. Although best for adding depth to brews made with darker malts, it can be used to impart subtle effects to lighter beers. In my personal experience, it’s better added to the wort boil, although some brewers think this imparts too much bitterness and prefer cold extract added to the secondary. Personally, I have found this results in a stale coffee flavor. The type of coffee used, how much to use, and when to add it are all factors that you can vary greatly; no choice is better than any other. Personally, I like adding coarsely ground espresso beans during the last 10 to 15 minutes of the boil, preferably for stouts. However, brewers have tried all manner of variations. Experiment away! Highly roasted malts such as chocolate and black patent will both impart a coffee flavor without the use of coffee as they have been processed in a similar manner to roasted coffee beans.
Coriander (Coriandrum sativum)
The seed of cilantro, coriander is traditionally used in Belgian witbiers and complements any wheat beer nicely, particularly when used with additional ingredients such as orange peel.
Ginger (Zingiber officinale)
The part of the ginger plant used for brewing and cooking is the rhizome. While a very popular flavor in traditional beer brewing, it should be used sparingly unless you want ginger to be the dominant flavor, as with ginger beer. In small amounts, it works well in various styles, particularly wheats, along with flavorings such as coriander, orange peel, grains of paradise, and licorice.
Grains of Paradise (Aframomum melegueta)
A relative of ginger, it has a similar potent flavor but is a bit more subtle and therefore more forgiving. Its flavor and bite are really more akin to black pepper, for which it can be used as a substitute in both cooking and brewing. It’s very common in British beer recipes, and I have added it to many of my brews since discovering it.
Licorice/Liquorice (Glycyrrhiza glabra)
Taken from the root of a herbaceous perennial legume native to Southern Europe and Asia, it shows up in a number of traditional beer recipes. It has a unique sweet flavor that can easily overpower a recipe. Use sparingly.
Meadowsweet (Filipendula ulmaria)
A much-heralded precursor to hops as one of the core components in beer as both a preservative and flavoring, meadowsweet shows up in many early brewing recipes, and is often found in the analysis of brewing-vessel shards in archaeological digs. Very aromatic, it is often a component of Scottish heather ales.
From bottom left corner clockwise: cloves, cardamom, allspice, cinnamon, grains of paradise, fenugreek, and star anise (center).
Mugwort (Artemisia vulgaris)
Related to wormwood (and sometimes called common wormwood), mugwort shares wormwood’s bittering powers, but is tamer in flavor. As with wormwood—and any other bittering herb for that matter—I’ve found that my herbalist and brewing friends have differing opinions as to just how bitter mugwort is. It’s one of my favorite substitutes for hops, for its bitter and preservative effect more than its flavor. It is generally best to balance it with a more aromatic herb such as meadowsweet.
Nutmeg (Myristica fragrans)
The seed of an evergreen indigenous to Indonesia, nutmeg is very strong and aromatic and should be used sparingly, or along with spices such as allspice, cinnamon, and cloves to brew holiday ales.
Rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis)
Both the stem and needles of this small evergreen shrub—a woody perennial herb—can be used to flavor beer. The flavor is potent and aromatic either fresh or dried. A little bit goes a long way! Not to be confused with the mildly toxic wild rosemary.
Sage (Salvia officinalis)
Most often associated with cooking today, sage was very commonly used to brew with in ancient times. While Salvia officinalis is the type of sage most Westerners are familiar with, there are many other plants that take the name sage. Not all of them are related, or even have the same medicinal properties. Take care when selecting a sage plant for brewing that you understand its true properties. Spanish sage (S. lavandulifolia) is the common culinary variety, and is the only variety that doesn’t contain thujone, which is toxic in excess amounts and can cause breast milk reduction. Thujone, however, is strongly antiseptic and stimulates digestion, and can therefore be used for medicinal purposes in smaller amounts.
Saint-John’s-Wort (Hypericum perforatum)
We know Saint-John’s-wort has a rich tradition in brewing, since it lent its name to unfermented beer: wort. It was a traditional component in Scandinavian beers such as sahti, and likely showed up in gruit recipes. Traditionally, and even in modern medical usage, it has been used as an antidepressant, so why not put it in your beer? It’s important to note that, according to the NCCIH (National Center for Complementary and Integrative Health), Saint-John’s-wort can interact negatively with a number of pharmaceuticals.3
Sassafras (Sassafras albidum)
Both the roots and inner bark of this shrub found in the eastern US have traditionally been used to make medicinal teas and can be used in brewing beer, including root beer. The FDA doesn’t permit its sale, as studies on rats have shown that it is carcinogenic in very large amounts, and thus it was banned in 1960.4 Considering the much larger amounts of carcinogens that surround us on a daily basis—and that we’re not rats being forced to ingest massive doses of it—a little bit of sassafras shouldn’t be much of a concern. If you compare drinking modern root beer to a sassafras tea or beer, you may notice that they did a surprisingly good job of imitating the flavor of real sassafras. One way I’ve heard the flavor described is as tasting like soft licorice or aniseed (which licorice candy is flavored with), but to me it has its own unique flavor.
Vanilla (Vanilla planifolia)
The pods of a species of orchid native to Mexico and Central America, vanilla can be used in whole form or as an extract in brewing. Although its flavor is soft and mild, it can easily overpower other flavors (which makes it useful for covering up off flavors before bottling).
Wild Rosemary (Ledum palustre)
Another reputed gruit ingredient, and a common ingredient in many other traditional herbal ales, it is toxic if consumed in large quantities. Although it probably won’t kill you, drinking too much beer with wild rosemary is alleged to cause dizziness and headaches. One of those traditions it’s probably best not to emulate. A related plant is Labrador tea (L. groenlandicum), a member of the heath family.
Woodruff (Galium odoratum)
Often referred to as sweet woodruff, it is best known for its use in May wine. Known in Germany as Waldmeister, it was traditionally used to flavor Berliner Weisse beer.
Wormwood (Artemisia absinthium)
Legendary as a component in absinthe and other herbed beverages, wormwood was also traditionally used as a bittering component in beer. Its reputation as being dangerous due to having some degree of toxicity and supposed mind-altering abilities is overstated. Due to its high level of bitterness, it should be used sparingly in beer. One thing I have discovered in my personal experience is that wormwood I purchased from a homebrew-supply store produced an almost undrinkable beer due to excessive bitterness. When I ordered some from a reputable herb supplier, I made some beer with a small amount and the bitterness was barely discernible. I decided to sample a pinch of each to see if there was a difference. The stuff from the homebrew-supply store tasted awful; the other just had an herbal (and not overly bitter) flavor. Maybe I got a bad batch. Still, in general I recommend ordering dried herbs from a reputable supplier, and sampling a bit before using—if a bit on the tip of your tongue tastes awful, chances are you’re not going to like it in your brew.
Yarrow (Achillea millefolium)
Another classic gruit herb, it has a mild bittering effect and is a good candidate to counteract the sweetness of malt and other ingredients in place of hops.
Forest Brewing: Tree Leaves, Bark, Needles, and More
Many old brewing recipes call for the addition of items such as bark, leaves, and pine needles, so brewing with forest materials is a well-established tradition. Even today brewers, vintners, mead makers, and distillers use oak and other wood to impart flavoring through the use of barrels and wood chips. The only difference is that these woods are a bit more processed than what you can find in the forest. Many of the other ingredients you can brew with are very common and can be grown yourself or purchased from an herb supplier. Learn to identify them in the wild and you’ll never need to buy or grow them, provided you only pick small amounts to allow them to continue to propagate. Although you can use the roots of some plants for brewing, such as dandelion, it’s generally best to avoid uprooting any wild plants. While I use most of these ingredients in smaller batches of simple wild brews (or primitive wild beers, as Pascal Baudar likes to call them), ones that I have experimented with and ascertained acceptable ratios for brewing with often end up in my larger grain-based brewing batches.
Tree Bark
The bark of most deciduous trees (trees that shed their leaves every fall), and of most conifers (trees with needles that stay on the tree year-round), is edible and good for brewing. Oak, walnut, willow, alder, sycamore, and birch are among the various tree barks that were used in traditional brews. Cambium, the inner, living bark, is edible and nutritious and can be eaten as an emergency food source (in small amounts) or brewed with. The rougher outer bark can be used, but contains a higher level of tannins, which means more bitterness; it also provides less flavor than the inner bark, as it is essentially the dead “skin” of the tree.
The inner layer, or cambium, of tree bark can be procured by carefully scraping off the outer bark with a knife, and then shaving strips of cambium.
Try to avoid taking bark from live trees. As long as it is fairly freshly fallen, a dead tree will serve you just as well. If you do elect to take a small amount from a live tree, try to go with some bark from a branch, or scrape a bit from the trunk. If you were to take bark from the entire circumference of the tree (which you shouldn’t), you would be cutting off its food source and will likely kill the tree. As with any wild harvesting, borrow what you need and let nature keep the rest. Just remember that bark will be crawling with all kinds of bacteria that you don’t necessarily want. While you can sterilize the bark by boiling it in the wort, this will also release tannins that can lead to excessive bittering. I’ve made flavorful enough (and not overly bitter) beers this way, but you’ll get a more balanced flavor if you heat the bark in an oven at 250°F (120°C) for 20 to 30 minutes and add it as a flavoring component after the wort has cooled. You can experiment with various quantities to use for brewing. It’s tough to give specifics on how much to use—as tree type and age, time of year, and other environmental factors can affect the flavor—but I generally go with a small handful (about 0.5 ounce/14 grams) per 1-gallon (4 L) batch.
Tree Leaves
Many older brewing recipes call for floating an oak, walnut, or maple leaf on top of a new mead or wine for tannin. Along with tannin, leaves provide additional nutrients and flavoring qualities. Beers don’t generally need tannin, although non-grain-based beers (such as simple ales) can benefit from some, or can be flavored with only tree leaves. I like to work with leaves that have already fallen, although green leaves will work as well. When they’ve fallen and have begun to decompose, they start producing a musky, earthen flavor. Walk through a forest in the autumn and take a deep whiff. That’s the flavor you’re looking for.
Coniferous Needles
The needles of conifers (spruce, pine, and cedar trees) have long been used for brewing, and to make teas. Spruce beer recipes abound in historical brewing literature, and spruce was often used instead of or alongside hops, for both its preservative and its flavoring qualities. Spruce was commonly used to prevent scurvy on long sea voyages due to its high vitamin C content. While nearly all conifers have edible needles, I usually use the word spruce in regard to brewing for simplicity’s sake and because nearly all recipes—new and old—use that word primarily.
Please check a reputable source to identify a tree before brewing with its needles. The toxicity of some types of conifers, such as the western ponderosa pine and the southeastern loblolly pine, is a matter of debate (you would have to ingest a lot of “toxic” needles, which you should never do anyway). The yew tree, easily identifiable by its red berry with a single seed, is a well-known toxic conifer with a rich history in folklore. Ingestion of the needles of any conifer on an extended, regular basis can potentially be toxic, and conifer needles of any kind should be avoided by pregnant women. Just as with any other edible plant, though, you should be fine unless you’re consuming very large amounts on a daily basis (with the exception of yew). Also, as with any other plant, research contraindications before consuming. If you’re unsure or don’t live in an area with easy access to conifer needles, visit Spruce on Tap (spruceontap.com). They provide sustainably harvested spruce tips from Colorado, as well as a number of other wild-harvested ingredients such as juniper berries and yarrow (along with recipes for brewing with spruce).
Spruce and pine needles come in a large variety of shapes and sizes. All of them can be used in brewing, with the possible exception of the western ponderosa pine and the southeastern loblolly pine.
As with bark, the recommended amount of needles to use for brewing is hard to peg down. If it smells strong, it will likely have a strong flavor. The most flavorful needles for brewing are those harvested in the spring (although they can be harvested and used in brewing year-round). Gather several of the tips (the new-growth ends of a branch, which will be tender and bright green in the spring) and toss as many into a brew as you dare. Flavors imparted by needles range from citrusy, to floral, to resinous and piney. If you don’t want your beer to taste like Lysol, be sure to not use too much if the needles have a strong flavor, and avoid adding them to the full boil (adding them at the end as the brew begins to cool, and leaving them for 30 to 45 minutes is best). The most consistent way to get the exact flavor you want is to make a spruce tea or purchase some spruce essence from a homebrewing store. Add very small amounts at bottling and taste until you’re satisfied. Spruce essence is a concentrate, so start with very small amounts (around ¼ teaspoon). For spruce tea you can be a little more liberal. To make a spruce tea, simply take several spruce tips, boil them in about a gallon (4 L) of water until the bark peels off easily, strain, cool, and keep refrigerated until you’re ready to bottle.
EASTERN RED CEDAR (JUNIPERUS VIRGINIANA)
Not a true cedar, but a member of the juniper family. European settlers mistook it for a cedar and the name stuck. Like European junipers, the eastern red cedar can be identified by the berrylike cones on the tips of the shoots of female trees. True to its name, it is most common in eastern North America, with the Rocky Mountain juniper (J. scopulorum) more common in western North America. Traditional Scandinavian recipes often call for juniper branches and berries. In North America cedar branches can be used as a substitute for juniper, but take care with how much you use. In my own brews I’ve found that it can add a very strong woody, piney, almost dirtlike flavor if not used sparingly. In checking with Finnish sahti brewer, blogger, and author Mika Laitinen (brewingnordic.com), I discovered that other North American brewers have reported similar flavor profiles.5 Although it is not as authentic, I prefer the flavor spruce imparts in my Scandinavian-style brews, unless I’m able to procure true Scandinavian juniper. If you use eastern red cedar or Rocky Mountain juniper, I suggest just using the branches as a filter and only adding a small amount to the wort to avoid a brew you may want to toss down the drain.
Fruits and Vegetables
Most technical brewing books I’ve read say there is little historic precedent for brewing with fruit or vegetables, probably because they tend to focus on specific styles and beers that were produced commercially (exceptions are given for Belgian beers, which often contain fruit such as raspberries and cherries). I have found quite the opposite to be true in my research, but perhaps that’s because—like most early brewers—I don’t have a regimented concept of what I consider to be a beer. Most people today consider any alcohol brewed with fruit and (nonmalt) sugar to be wine—or mead if made with fruit and honey (which technically makes for a type of mead called a melomel). While I agree with these designations, when we brew, we can work with whatever combinations of sugars and ingredients we desire. If we’re brewing for ourselves and our friends and family, it doesn’t matter so much what we call it (although, like myself, you likely have friends and family members who are stuck on the aforementioned designations). The point here is that fruit and vegetables have been used extensively in brewing throughout history. We know that as far back as Neolithic times fruits were used not only for flavoring and an additional sugar source, but also to initiate fermentation due to the wild yeasts that like to colonize their skins. Residue from pottery shards found in early Bronze Age Northern Europe, for example, reveals a prevalence of beerlike beverages (grogs) that contained fruits such as apples, cherries, cowberries, cranberries, and lingonberries. These grogs also contained grains, along with herbs such as meadowsweet and bog myrtle, as well as honey.6 Given that grains were often included in these brews, I would say that there was a very early precedent for fruit beer. Another ancient brew, discovered from analysis of pottery jars found in the Neolithic village of Jiahu in northern China, was an early rice beer, but also had elements of wine and mead, as it contained honey, grapes, and hawthorn berries.7
Mushrooms
Capturing the rich diversity of mushrooms is far beyond the scope of this book. There are many excellent books and several reputable websites on the subject. I grow my own mushrooms and forage for them from time to time, but I’m much more a hobbyist than an expert. As with other wild edibles, I work with what I know and slowly build my repertoire. My favorites to brew with (mostly because they’re the ones I’m most familiar with) are shiitake, oyster, wine cap stropharia, and turkey tail. Some species add a heady dose of earthiness, some impart a nutty flavor, some are more delicate, and most impart some degree of bitterness. Try out different varieties to determine the flavors that work for you. It doesn’t hurt to chew on a mushroom and slowly savor its juices to ascertain the flavoring qualities and degree of bitterness it is likely to give a brew.
Mushrooms can be used fresh or dried (whole or powdered) with about the same effect but, as with herbs, dried mushrooms have more concentrated flavors, so you should use about half the amount. They can (and should, if raw) be heated in the full boil, as this will draw out their medicinal and flavoring qualities, and kill off any live bacteria that may or may not lend positive qualities to the final product. If you decide to add mushrooms to the secondary fermenter, first be sure to cook them in the oven, dehydrate them, or cook them in water to make a mushroom tea. Most mushrooms are indigestible raw, and even edible ones can be mildly toxic if not heated first.
For small craft breweries, the cost of procuring enough fruit or vegetables for a beer—along with the cost of lost profits due to potentially unpopular beer—can be high. Many fruits, for example, grow mostly in the wild, grow only in certain regions, or aren’t generally grown on a commercial scale. The good news is that you’ve got a leg up on commercial breweries. For you, if it’s edible and you can forage or grow it, you can brew beer with it. You don’t even have to gather enough for a 5-gallon batch. For my fruit beers, I often just gather what I need and throw it into a 1-gallon batch. Quick, easy, and dirt-cheap. But while brewing with fruits and vegetables is a simple prospect, there are some things you’ll want to take into consideration when formulating a recipe.
Let’s start with fruit, since fruits are a bit different than most vegetables in how they affect a brew. First, do you want the particular fruit you’re using to be the highlight of the drink, do you want it to be more of a subtle afterthought, or are you more interested in its fermentation-enhancing and flavor-balancing properties? Depending on the beer you have in mind, you’ll need to decide not only how much to use but also the point of the brewing process to add it. As with wine and mead, most of the flavor will be lost if the fruit is added at the beginning of the fermentation process, but you can add fruit, or fruit juice, all the way up to bottling. The further along you add it, the more it will contribute to the flavor. There are brewers who steep fruit during the last 15 minutes or so of the boil, although others argue that this brings out high levels of pectin, which can contribute to haze. The general consensus seems to be that adding to the secondary is a perfectly valid—and likely the best—option. Juniper berries are cooked in Scandinavian beer worts, but remember that these are actually a type of pinecone, not a true berry.
Try to procure quality fruit at peak ripeness and either add immediately to the fermenter or freeze until you’re ready to use. Not only does this give you time to gather enough for the brew but freezing also breaks down fruit’s cell walls, allowing more of its essence into the brew. Be sure to allow the fruit to fully thaw before using it, however, as you may shock the yeast if you drop it in cold. Concentrated juice or fruit extract will also work, as will regular old fruit juice (with no preservatives). If you’re using concentrated, check the container for the equivalent amount of fruit.
I prefer to avoid extract, as I feel it imparts a syrupy, soda-like flavor to my beers, but it’s good to use at bottling if you have a specific amount of fruit flavoring you’re after. Since extract has no fermentable sugars, it won’t restart fermentation. Just add a bit at a time, stir, and taste until you’re satisfied (or take a sample of the beer, measure how much you add, and when you like it, scale up for the rest).
The amount of fruit you use can vary depending on the fruit and your preferred flavor profile. Start by following someone else’s recipe (there are lots of fruit-beer recipes in online brewing forums), or experiment. A good place to start is 1 to 2 pounds (0.5–1 kg) per gallon (4 L). The worst that can usually happen is that you make a beer that is too fruity, that comes out bland, or has too much tartness or sourness. There are various ways to balance these undesirable flavors when it comes to bottling time so that you’re not left with a bunch of blah beers. Wine- and mead makers create balance by adding acids and tannins. Most beer won’t need tannin because grains usually provide enough, and any herbs or hops have a similar effect. However, citric and malic acid additions can make just the difference you need. Fruits such as lemons, limes, oranges, and grapefruit provide citric acid, while malic acid comes from apples. Malic provides more of a soft flavoring effect if you just want to round the flavor out a bit. If the brew seems bland at bottling, any citrus fruit will do, although lemon is the most common. Adding a high-acid fruit such as raspberries (a very popular fruit for beer on its own) during fermentation can be a good way to avoid needing to make adjustments at bottling. Use juice when adjusting at bottling, not whole fruit. Start with a teaspoon per gallon, stir, taste, and adjust until satisfied. Or adjust a small sample and scale up.
Brewing with Oranges
Oranges are a very popular fruit to add to farmhouse ales and any light, refreshing summer ale. When brewing with oranges, or any other citrus for that matter, most brewers use only the zest, or colored outer rind. The inner white rind, or pith, should be avoided or used carefully in very small amounts, as it can add a bitterness you probably don’t want. Scrape the outer rind off with a zester, or buy the zest of exotic oranges such as Curaçao at an herb or homebrew-supply store. You can also use orange juice for additional orange flavor, but this can be easy to overdo. I recommend waiting until fermentation has died down and adding it to taste.
I’ve heard of some people brewing with whole oranges but I’ve had whole-orange brews that have come out far too pithy, so I can’t provide any personal advice on how to do that. I have made small meads, though, to which I add several orange wedges at the beginning of the fermentation process. These are quite enjoyable drunk young as intended, but can start to turn pithy with aging.
The next question is: What type of malt should you pair with fruit? In general, lighter barley and wheat malts meld better with most fruits, but more robust fruit flavors can handle darker malts. For instance, cherries work remarkably well with dark beers. One of my favorite stouts to brew is a cherry-espresso stout. I was living in Washington State the first time I made it, and I brewed it with large, plump, sweet bing cherries that my wife and I had picked and canned in syrup. Tart cherries will also work well with dark grains, but they may require a bit more of a balancing act. When brewing with fruit, I recommend doing some 1-gallon (4 L) test batches with dry malt extract (DME) until you reach the ratio of fruit to malt that you like, then scaling up to 5-gallon (20 L) extract or all-grain batches if you have enough fruit. Generally, dark grains should be avoided when you’re brewing with lighter-flavored fruits, even as adjuncts, as they can conflict with the fruit flavor. Careful, small additions don’t hurt to experiment with, though. Wheat and pilsner malts are some of my favorites for fruit brews, particularly since their flavors hark back to traditional Belgian and French farmhouse brews.
Most of the so-called vegetables that are most often used in brewing are actually fruit. Pumpkins are fruit. So are other squash such as zucchini. Peppers are fruit. Tomatoes are fruit. Fruits contain seeds, as opposed to vegetables, which are parts of the plant such as roots, stems, leaves, tubers, and flowers. The reason people think of certain fruits as being vegetables is because these types of fruits tend to be less sweet, so they usually suit different culinary purposes. Oh well. Call them what you will; they’re still fair game for brewing. I can’t say I’ve brewed with a lot of vegetables (or fruits that are actually vegetables), but I do play around with them some. For instance, rhubarb ferments into a nice tart, slightly sour flavor reminiscent of a good Belgian ale (see the Rhubarb Ginger/Simple Ale recipe in chapter 9). Many brewers brew with peppers, but they definitely require careful balancing; I like to smoke various types of chili peppers and use one to two per gallon. The pepper flavor should complement the rest of the brew, not overwhelm it.
Come fall, the craft-beer market is inundated with pumpkin ales. While pumpkins have been used for brewing in the US since the colonial era, I don’t think their brewing potential has been fully realized. I find most commercial pumpkin beers a bit bland, although I have tasted exceptions. The trick is to use pumpkin as a base for other flavors, as it doesn’t have much of its own. Just as with pumpkin pie, if you add the right amounts of spices such as allspice, cinnamon, nutmeg, and coriander (usually around ¼ to ½ ounce/7–14 g in a 5-gallon/20 L batch), you can give a pumpkin brew a nice well-rounded flavor. Pumpkins, and other squash, should be cooked before being used in brewing to break their flesh down and to caramelize them. Split them in half, scoop out the seeds, and lay them flat on a cookie sheet lined with foil. It’s best to not grease the pan, as that may impart flavors you don’t want in the brew. Bake them pulp-side down for an hour or two in an oven at 300°F (150°C) until the pulp is soft and mushy. Let it cool, scoop it out, and add it to the mash (or wort if you’re brewing with extract).
Adjunct Grains and Sugars
As we’ve learned, the process of breaking grain starches down into fermentable sugars takes a bit of work, especially when you’re brewing with highly starchy grains such as corn, rice, unmalted wheat, or oats. For the most part, these grains won’t do you much good in extract brewing, and they may very well cause some problems. While oats can be used in small amounts to build up body in a beer such as a stout, most of these starch grains will contribute little more than haziness and instability. Unlike barley, which stores its starch in granules, these adjuncts keep their starch in a well-organized, tightly bound structure. When creating a mash in all-grain brewing, we are introducing grain-derived enzymes (alpha and beta amylase) that degrade starch into simple sugars. The best way to make starchy unmalted grains accessible to these enzymes is to precook them in water before adding them to the mash. Soaking starchy foods allows the starch to absorb water, while the granules remain intact. The starch’s structure then begins to break down and the water molecules begin to disperse. Since starch-degrading amylase enzymes are water-soluble, they are now able to get to the starch and begin degrading it.
Corn
Corn gets a bad rap today, with good reason. It has become a monocrop in the United States, taking up vast fields to supply manufacturers of high-fructose corn syrup, as well as a multitude of additional additives and sweeteners. Not to mention that mega-breweries use large amounts of corn (and some, rice) as filler for fermentable sugars in their beers to keep costs down and production up. When the first American craft breweries began introducing their all-malt beers, the flavor was a shock to the drinking public. Some embraced it while most stuck to their adjunct-heavy lagers. Time turned the tide, though, and now big breweries have been forced to play catch-up. For a long time, craft-beer geeks turned their noses up at the use of corn or rice in beer, and no craft brewery dared use any. However, as craft breweries (and homebrewers) become more innovative and interested in the use of traditional ingredients, corn is becoming accepted again, provided it is in small amounts or is used to re-create a traditional recipe and not simply as filler.
There are many examples of corn-based beers in colonial-era United States, including recipes from George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and Ben Franklin. George, Tom, and Ben were all prolific brewers, as were other founding fathers, and passed down their favorites. Credit must be given, however, to Jefferson’s daughter Martha, as she was a well-respected brewster well before her father took to brewing. Martha brewed copious amounts of beer while living in Monticello, serving more than 120 gallons (454 L) in her first year there alone.8 Since barley wasn’t readily available, or was prohibited for use as malt due to scarcity, early colonial brewers got creative, thanks in large part to the Native Americans who had helped them through the harsh early years by teaching them how to grow and use crops such as corn. One of the earliest reports of making beer from maize was written by colonist Thomas Hariot around 1588: “Wee made of the same [corn] in the country some mault, whereof was brued as good ale as was to be desired.”9 While it is possible to make a flavorful all-corn beer such as chicha or other South American brews (which require enzyme conversion through the introduction of saliva via chewing and spitting), corn is generally best used as a minor adjunct in malt-based beers. Colonial American recipes that call for corn generally also list malted barley, although at times early Americans had to use mostly—if not all—corn. Malted corn isn’t common today unless you malt it yourself, so contemporary brewers usually use corn grits (coarsely ground dried corn kernels) or fresh sweet kernels (better used for corn wine than beer).
Dried corn ideal for malting from a corn-harvesting party at permaculture guru Susana Lein’s Salamander Springs Farm near Berea, Kentucky.
Various forms of corn can be used for brewing, from cracked corn to corn grits, cornmeal to cornstalks. Cornstalks (according to one early recipe, chopped and pounded so that their juice can be extracted by boiling10) must be used early in the season, before they’ve passed all of their sugars along to the kernels. For brewing with kernels—in whatever form—precook them before adding them to the mash as described on page 155 and in the Modernized Chicha recipe in chapter 9. Flaked maize can be added directly to the mash, as it has already been precooked through a steaming process, after which it is pressed between hot rollers to pre-gelatinize the starches, making them ready for conversion to sugar.
Unmalted Oats and Wheat
Contributing no extractable sugars, unmalted oats and wheat are two prime examples of ingredients primarily used to provide body, with limited contributions to flavor. While they can have some noticeable effect when used in an extract beer, they’re best included as part of an all-grain recipe. Take care, though; because they don’t easily give up their fermentable sugars, they can become rather gooey and gum up the works of your mash tun. A good way to avoid this is to add rice hulls to act as a sparging filter, about 1 pound (0.5 kg) per 5 pounds (2.5 kg) of adjunct. All unmalted grains, including corn, need a bit of precooking to prepare them for the mash. When precooking, take the amount you plan on brewing with, place it in a pot, and add just enough water to turn it into a thick porridge. Bring it slowly to a boil, stirring constantly, and then cut the heat down to an occasional bubble. Leave it like this, continuing to stir regularly, for 15 minutes. At this point, you can add it to your mash, which you should already have heated to about 122°F (50°C). Slowly add the adjunct grains and monitor your temperature until it reaches what your recipe calls for, adding more hot water if needed. Instant, rolled, and old-fashioned oats have all been precooked already and can be added directly to the mash.
Molasses, Brown Sugar, and Cane Sugar
Molasses was one of the main ingredients used for brewing beer in colonial America when malted barley was scarce. Molasses is a syrupy substance derived from sugarcane and a by-product of refined sugar. To produce sugar, juice is extracted from sugarcane or sugar beets, which is then boiled down until the sugars crystallize. The leftover syrup is molasses. The word molasses comes from the Portuguese melaço, meaning “treacle,” and is derived from the Latin mel, “honey,” likely due to its similar consistency. There are usually three stages of boiling and crystallization during sugarcane production. The excess molasses contains less sugar with each subsequent phase. The further along in the process, the higher the vitamin and mineral content is of the resultant molasses. This is why refined sugar is really a non-food. By the time sugar makes it to crystallized form, particularly table sugar, it is devoid of any nutrients. The forms of molasses are, by order of extraction:
Light molasses: The syrup left over from the first boiling cycle, it is light in color, has a high sugar content, and has the least viscous texture.
Dark molasses: The second by-product, this molasses is darker, more viscous, and contains less sugar than light molasses.
Blackstrap molasses: This variety has the highest mineral content and contains the least sugar. It is very dark in color and highly viscous. It also has the most robust flavor, which can be a turnoff to some.
Sugar production was a major economic powerhouse for the growth of the United States and, along with cotton production, was highly dependent upon slavery. Sugarcane likes warm temperatures, so most sugar was produced in the Caribbean, but it was also grown and processed in the Deep South of the United States. Because of its explosive growth in popularity once colonists realized how easily it could be distilled into rum, it was produced on slave plantations to maximize profit. Initially, molasses was tossed or used as animal fodder until it was determined to be almost as easy to ferment as honey. An early description of the resultant product in a 1651 description of Barbados was none too kind: “The chief fuddling they make in the island is Rumbullion, alias Kill-Devil, and this is made of sugar canes distilled, a hot, hellish, and terrible liquor.” As the distilling process became more refined, the tune quickly changed. Rum became extremely popular in England, the American colonies, and even West Africa—where thousands of men, women, and children were sold into slavery in large part to enable its production. By the late 1600s the island of Barbados was transformed from a dense forest into an ocean of sugarcane plantations.11
Although many recipes dating back to the 1600s call for the use of molasses—and only molasses—as the sugar source for brewing beer, it can have a strong and off-putting flavor when used in its more concentrated forms. Blackstrap molasses in particular should be used in small amounts in malt beer, or blended with lighter molasses or crystallized sugar in sugar-based ales. This is not only because it has a lower degree of fermentability, but also because the flavor it imparts—sharp, pungent, and vitamin-rich—can be difficult to imbibe as the primary flavor in a beer. For malt beers, molasses is best used to add body and flavor to stouts and porters. As it was a common ingredient in spruce beer, I like to add a pound (0.5 kg) of it to my malt-based spruce beers for a degree of authenticity.
Cane sugar, brown sugar, and molasses are all by-products of various stages of the sugarcane-refinement process.
Brown sugar can be used in a similar manner as molasses for brewing, as it is simply granulated sugar with some molasses still present. There are two types: Unrefined or partially refined brown sugar is sugar that hasn’t had the molasses fully processed from it, while refined brown sugar is refined white sugar to which molasses has been added back. Brown sugar comes with a variety of labels, including dark, light, natural, turbinado, demerara, and muscovado. The difference in these varieties is negligible when it comes to brewing (with the exception of light brown sugar, which will produce, well … lighter-flavored beer than dark brown sugar), so when I reference brown sugar in a recipe, any brown sugar will do. For a simple ale with a lighter, crisper flavor, replace the same amount of brown sugar with raw cane sugar. Feel free to blend various refined sugars and even molasses to come up with your own preferred flavor.
Sorghum
Sometimes sold as “sorghum molasses,” sorghum is not actually sugarcane molasses, but is produced by boiling down sweet sorghum, a high-sugar grass similar to sugarcane. As with molasses, beers made with sweet sorghum extract as the sole fermentable can be an acquired taste. The ones I’ve made have a funky sweet-sour flavor that I can only handle in small doses. It does work well as a low-percentage adjunct to malt-based beers. Sorghum beer is drunk throughout much of Africa, serving as much as food as a beverage due to its high levels of protein, fats, vitamins, and minerals.12 Sorghum as an agricultural crop has a deep, rich history in sub-Saharan Africa. As Dr. Patrick McGovern notes, “In the eastern Sahel, the semiarid scrub grasslands south of the Sahara Desert, sorghum has been king for thousands of years. It remains the most important crop for all of sub-Saharan Africa, feeding hundreds of millions of people and providing three-quarters of the caloric intake, mostly as beer, in many areas.”13 The sorghum grown in Africa is primarily grain sorghum, which has lower sugar content than sweet sorghum until the grains have been malted. Sweet sorghum is what is primarily grown and sold in the United States, with my home state of Kentucky leading the charge. Although it has been grown in nearly every other state since colonial days, Kentucky is one of eight southeastern and midwestern states that produce nearly 90 percent of the total US output, with Kentucky producing more than $12 million worth of syrup in 2008.14 Grain sorghum isn’t typically produced in the United States, so sorghum beer made from US-produced sweet sorghum will likely differ from that made from African grain sorghum, which is malted rather than cooked down into syrup. If you can obtain some sorghum grains to malt, by all means give it a try. Millet is a more readily available option and would work as an alternative.
Honey
Entire books could be (and have been) written about brewing with honey (shameless self-promotion alert: See my first book Make Mead Like a Viking). Although technically a brew made with honey as the sole or majority sugar source would be a mead, it can be used in different amounts to brew beer. There is even a type of mead-beer hybrid called bragot (also braggot, brag, bragio, brakkatt, or bracket) that has large amounts of honey along with large amounts of malt. Reaching alcohol levels of 12 percent or higher, it drinks more like a wine or a mead than a beer. Another brew that was traditionally made with honey is Welsh Ale. As I reference in my discussion on Welsh Ale in chapter 9, it is closely related to bragot and in many senses is one and the same. In my discussions on simple ales in chapter 9, I reference small mead, also known as short mead or session mead. While these aren’t technically beer, they have similar alcohol content as a “sessionable” beer and drink very much like a beer. A sessionable or session beer ranges from 3 to 5 percent ABV; its low alcohol level and refreshing flavor mean several can be drunk in a session without succumbing to overt drunkenness. Call them what you want, but if done right, they’re plenty tasty.
I often use honey as an adjunct when I want to increase my wort gravity without overtly affecting the flavor. Usually this means adding no more than 1 to 2 pounds (0.5–1 kg) per 5-gallon (20 L) batch. Depending on the honey and the type of malt, this amount will have little effect on the flavor. In a very malty brew such as a porter or stout or any beer with darker grains, it will add a bit of heft to the alcohol effect and smooth out the rough edges of the grains. In lighter ales and lagers, it will have a more pronounced effect. As with malt, the darker the honey’s color, the stronger the flavor. Hence a very dark honey, such as buckwheat, can impart some very strong (and not necessarily pleasing) flavors to a light brew but work well for accentuating a dark brew. A lighter honey works well for both light and dark beers. Most wildflower honeys and honeys derived from tree blossoms (such as orange blossom, sourwood, or tulip poplar) are good honeys to use in lighter beers. When using large amounts, such as for a bragot, take care with honey selection. I find that lighter honeys work well with pale malts to make for a very refreshing bragot that can be enjoyed young or aged to bring out more subtle flavors. I once obtained a large amount of very old, very dark honey in exchange for a presentation on mead making to a group of Ohio beekeepers. The honey had been kept in 55-gallon (208 L) drums in a barn for many years. Since it had grown dark with age (and had caramelized somewhat over years of hot summers), it couldn’t be sold as “table honey” but was rather considered less marketable “baker’s honey.” I’ve made some meads and bragots from this honey and wasn’t initially pleased with the results. It tended to produce a strong flavor reminiscent of cough syrup. I’ve found, however, that bragots made with this honey aged for six months or more have a mellower flavor. It’s still not something I would drink in large amounts, but when sipped like a well-aged wine or mead it can be quite nice.
Honey, particularly lighter honey, can be low in nutrients, so it will need some additional help to ferment properly. Most mead makers purchase nutrients from a homebrew store, which will work just fine. Darker honeys tend to need fewer nutrient supplements, and fermentation of any honey will benefit from the use of raw, unfiltered honey with pollen, propolis, comb, and other bits of the hive still present. Add honey after cutting off the boil or directly to the fermenter to retain its aromatic qualities. When I make mead, I rarely heat it except to dissolve it in the water or if I want to impart a burnt or smoky flavor. Honey has all of the sugars it needs and thus doesn’t need to be heated to draw the sugars out as with malt. Excessive heating also detracts from honey’s subtle aromatics and kills off the wild yeast that some brewers, like myself, want to aid in a strong fermentation.
While malted grain is the soul of beer, adjuncts and flavoring ingredients are the icing on the cake. Beer and ale can be made with just fermentable sugars, water, and yeast—but without anything additional, it will have a tendency to be bland, overly sweet, or sour. The ingredients covered in this chapter, even in very small amounts, will make a beer go from bleh to wow … if used correctly.